Buck Up, Potter
by abby1217
Summary: In the third grade, Harry makes a new friend. Eliza is bringing changes to his life and they are most definitely for the better. Follow Harry through his years at Hogwarts, taking on adventures with a new mindset. Harry Potter and co. belong to JK Rowling, I am merely borrowing her characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Buck Up, Potter**

CHAPTER ONE – NEW GIRL

January 5th, 1988

Harry was fighting to stay awake. The holiday season was always the perfect reason for the Dursley's to give him an abundance of chores and this year had been no different. Except it had. This year his Uncle Vernon had hosted a party on New Years Eve for work and his Aunt Petunia wanted everything to be perfect. So Harry had to clean the whole house top to bottom three times, including the attic which made no sense to him but he did what he was told lest he be thrown into the cupboard during the party instead cooking and serving the food like his aunt planned. And despite the fact that the party had taken place four days ago and should have been out of his mind, Harry was _tired_. It turned out that his uncle's friends were just as messy, clumsy and inconsiderate as Vernon when drunk. So Harry had to clean the house after they left despite the fact it was 3am. And he had to do it again later that same day because Petunia was having _her_ friends around for drinks. While cleaning after the women (who were considerably less but still messy) left, Harry promised himself (not for the first time in his life) he wouldn't ever let any alcoholic beverage pass his lips, not if he could help it.

So understandably, Harry was trying his best to stay awake during school, because it simply would not do to have Mrs. Salter call Aunt Petunia saying he was sleeping during class. But it would appear that now there was a good reason to stay awake.

Mrs. Salter paused in her reading of _Charlie_ _and_ _the_ _Chocolate_ _Factory_ when there was a knock on the door. She glanced at the door, widened her eyes and said, "Harry, dear, would you get the door?" as she stood up, putting the book on the bookshelf and reaching for the more boring book that was actually on the syllabus. Harry opened the door, since his seat was closest at the back of the class, and in walked the principal, Dr. Morgan, a stern faced man more capable of handing out sweets than detentions, and a short blonde haired girl. The girl smiled at Harry as she followed the tall man to the front of the room where Mrs. Salter waited nervously.

"Mrs. Salter," Dr. Morgan said with a smile, "I've heard you've been lamenting the fact you only had nineteen students. Well, now you have an even twenty. This here is Eliza Marsh. She has just moved here and I trust she will be very welcomed." He looked around at the class at the last part.

"Yes, Dr. Morgan." The class chorused.

Mrs. Salter smiled, not very nervous anymore, "Of course, sir. I'm sure it will be an absolute pleasure to have you here, Eliza." She said, turning her attention to the blonde.

"I don't know about that ma'am, but you can believe that for as long as you'd like," Eliza said, a look of innocence on her face.

The statement caused a few students, including Harry, to snicker. It also caused Mrs. Salter's smile to falter. She looked up at the principal, her widening in the way adult's eyes did when they were offended by a child but trying (and sometimes failing) to not let said child know they were offended. Harry had seen that look many times and, from the smile on her face, he got the feeling that this wasn't Eliza's first time either.

Mrs. Salter pasted the smile back on, patting Eliza on the head. "Well, aren't you just a cutie. Why don't you take the seat next to Harry, alright dear?"

Harry tensed up, smiling tightly when the teachers and, in turn, the other kids turned to look at him. Eliza shrugged and skipped to the back of the room throwing herself in the seat next to Harry. She turned to him and held out her hand with a smile. "Eliza Hope Marsh. Nice to meet you."

"Harry James Potter," he replied amused. "Nice to meet you, too." Harry shrugged internally. He would enjoy the kindness he got from the from the girl before Dudley managed to work his magic and leave Harry alone once more.

Oh how wrong he was.

* * *

After lunch, it was time for science. Harry had a feeling of dread as the class returned to Mrs. Salter's room. It wasn't until he saw the words 'SCIENCE FAIR' on the board that he realized why he had such a sinking feeling in his stomach. He would have to work with Eliza.

The day before Mrs. Salter had announced the school wide science fair. After explaining the rules, she told them to pair up, seemingly forgetting there was an odd number off students. When she realized that Harry was alone (due to Dudley's loud and unnecessary laughter) she fretted for all of thirty seconds, deluded herself into thinking Harry could work on it by himself and turned back to the rest of the class. But now Eliza was here so Mrs. Salter would make them work together.

Not that he didn't _want_ to work with Eliza. She'd made how she felt about him pretty clear too, all but telling Dudley and his friends to sod off during recess. But he felt if he were to get, for lack of a better word, _attached_ it would hurt more when she realized Harry wasn't worth it. Freaks like him didn't deserve kindness.

Harry and Eliza sat at their desk, watching as the class started talking loudly, most defiantly not talking about their projects. Harry was looking at his textbook absentmindedly and Eliza was doodling in the margins off her notebook. "So," she began, "I don't know about you, Potter, but I've never done a science fair. We didn't do that at my old school."

"Where's your old school?" He didn't object to her calling him Potter. She had decided during lunch that it sounded funny so therefore that's what she was going to call him.

"France." She didn't elaborate any further other than showing him a picture of baguette she drew.

"You're French?" She didn't have an accent but she didn't _seem_ French.

"No." When Harry gave her a deadpan look she said, "I was born in Scotland. France is just where we were before."

"Cool." Harry pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling.

"Have you ever done a science fair?" Eliza said, kicking his shin.

"No." Harry frowned. "It's usually just for the high school but a couple of fifth graders were complaining so now we're doing it too."

Eliza huffed. "Stupid fifth graders."

Harry snorted.

Eliza smiled and said, "What are we going to do for the project?"

"I dunno." Harry squinted at the blackboard up front. There were examples of what they could do. "But we can't do any of those."

"Why not?" The blonde beside him whined. "Spud lamp sounds cool." She paused. "What's a spud?"

"I think its a potato."

"Potatoes are cool!"

"Yeah but everyone else thinks so too!" Harry said trying to make Eliza see sense. "We can't do anything that's on the board because one; at least two pairs are doing each of those and two; Mrs. Salter said not to. So we have to think of something original."

"Stupid fifth graders," Eliza huffed once more, realizing the work they had ahead of them.

 _Stupid fifth graders indeed_ , Harry thought, pulling his textbook close, grasping for an idea.

* * *

After school the odd pair sat in the library looking for inspiration after stopping by the main office so Eliza could call her dad and Harry insisting the Dursleys wouldn't mind (read: care) if he was late, they ran off to make the most of the hour they had before it was time to go.

"Come on Eliza. We should check over there." Harry was tugging his friend(?) over to the section of wall labled 'MEMORY LANE' Harry knew (from his time hiding from Dudley's gang) this section of the library had old awards and newspaper clippings where the school was even remotely mentioned. And more often than not the science fair made it into the local papers. First prize projects would be for drawing inspiration... or straight up copy one if it came to that.

When Harry finished explaining his plan, Eliza laughed but insisted copying was only to be a last resort. The dark haired boy smiled internally at her response. That meant Harry would only do the work he was meant to, instead of doing the whole thing or neglecting his own portion which is usually what happened with smaller assignments that Dudley felt he was too good for.

After a good half an hour of looking at rusty awards and wrinkled newspapers (that caused Eliza to mutter things that shouldn't be said in front of adults), they decided that it was going to be a project with plants.

"But it should be something stupid," Eliza was saying. "Then they'll give us a higher mark out of pity."

Harry shook his head, hair flopping around his ears. "I've long since run out of pity points."

"Why?" She frowned. "Pity points should only be cashed in under most dire circumstances."

Harry squinted. "Dire circumstances?"

She shrugged. "I think it means really important or something. I heard mum say it when gran got sick." Eliza frowned and shuddered. "But why have you run out of pity points?"

"My aunt and uncle don't like it when I do better than Dudley."

"The fat blonde one?" Eliza said unimpressed.

"The one and only. Thank God," he added under his breath.

"Then I guess you don't turn in any work at all?"

Harry laughed. How dumb did she think Dudley was? "I turn in the worst possible work I can that won't make the school give me tutoring." He didn't mention that he did Dudley's homework. He knew _that_ was certainly frowned upon and no matter how lax Eliza was, he figured she wouldn't like that.

Eliza huffed. "So not something stupid or my parents will be mad at our bad grade but not something too smart or else the teachers will think you didn't help in anything besides writing your name."

"So average?" At her nod, he grinned. "I can do average."

* * *

Feeling that they had done enough work and knowing that it was time for them to leave, the pair waved to the leering man that was the librarian and went to sit out on the front steps for Eliza's dad. Given the fact that it was January, this wasn't the best idea but the librarian kept staring at them and there was fresh snow on the ground, begging to be played with.

Harry amused himself by grabbing handfuls of snow and tossing in the air, watching it sprinkle on the ground. Eliza watched him faintly amused but violently shivering. She couldn't fix her scarf to stay around her neck but also cover her mouth.

There was a loud honk that drew their attention to the road where a dark blue car was pulling up in front of the school.

Eliza's eyes lit up. "Dad! Finally!" She stood up and her hand out to Harry. "Come on. Maybe my dad will drop you home."

They walked together unsteadily on the snow towards the car and stopped in front of the drivers side door. The window rolled down and the man inside had close cropped blonde hair the same color as Eliza's.

"What are you kids waiting for? Get in." His voice was clear and crisp but distinctly Scottish.

"Dad'll drop you off," Eliza grinned opening the back door, no worries.

"B-but I don't want to be a bother." Harry said, desperately wanting to be in the warm interior but worried of what Aunt Petunia would say when a couple of strangers dropped him off.

"Nonsense! You'll get sick from this weather and I'm sure your parents wouldn't like that."

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what my parents would want but Aunt Petunia wouldn't want be throwing up all over the place."

As he got into the car Harry heard Mr. Marsh wince and he internally sighed, mentally preparing himself for the pity that usually followed such statements. But when their eyes met in the rear view mirror Harry didn't see pity. He saw sympathy and something else that Harry didn't recognize, but it certainly wasn't pity. "Sorry lad. My mistake."

The ride went smoothly, only pausing when Mr. Marsh remembered to ask Harry where he lived. He responded with Privet Drive and Mr. Marsh happily said they lived just a few streets over on Magnolia Road. Eliza squealed happily that that meant it would be easy for Harry to come over the project. While Harry checked that his eardrums imploded he heard the man murmur that as long as he wasn't driving Harry could come over everyday. The incredibly hyper blonde beside him said that she had full faith in her father's driving abilities and requested that her father turn up the radio.

Harry had been listening confused, until he caught sight off a cane resting in the passenger seat. He panicked briefly if the man should have been driving but reassured himself that they had been driving for ten minutes without so much as a swerve. And on a winter road no less. He calmed himself and turned his attention back to Eliza.

He flinched violently as she screamed out, "MAMA! JUST KILLED A MAN! PUT A GUN AGAINST HIS HEAD! PULLED MY TRIGGER, NOW HE'S DEAD!" She proceeded to belt out the rest of the lyrics in a similar manner. "MAMA! I DON'T WANNA DIE! I SOMETIMES WISH I'D NEVER BEEN BORN AT ALL!"

Harry stared, torn between between amusement and fear because of the passion the the girl had. Mr. Marsh wasn't fazed at all, his eyes glinting with amusement as he muttered along to the song.

"What was that?" Harry said once the song finished.

Eliza whipped around to stare at him, luckily her hair wasn't too long or Harry would've been slapped quite violently. "Y-you don't know? B-b-but that was the greatest song ever! Bohemian Rhapsody is a song from the heavens!" Eliza continued to rant about how amazing the song was and that Queen consisted of actual angels sent by God himself to show humanity what real music was.

Eliza slowed down as the car turned up Privet Drive and sat sullenly as the car pulled to a stop in front of No. 4. "I wish we could do our project on music instead of some stupid plants."

"Who knows?" Harry mused, as he pulled his hat onto his head. "Maybe we could." He looked at the house with a frown. The familiar apprehensive feeling returned as he thought of all the chores he had waiting for him. "It was nice to meet you Mr. Marsh. Thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow Eliza."

And with that, Harry got out of the car and trudged up the path to the place he called home.


	2. New Friend

CHAPTER TWO – NEW FRIEND

January 6th, 1988

The following morning Harry walked into his classroom, a bit jumpy from the events of the night before but with a bit of nervous anticipation to see Eliza. After explaining to Petunia why he was late, he then had to explain why had a stranger dropped him off. When Harry said Mr. Marsh insisted he would be sick after walking a mile in the snow, Aunt Petunia dropped the subject. Two years prior Harry had been violently sick and wasn't able to do chores around the house. Of course, once Harry was able to stand up for more then ten minutes, he was put straight back to work. And of course, it had been double the workload.

But then came dinner and Dudley was quick to inform his parents of the fact that Harry had the new girl as a partner and she actually liked him. When Harry mentioned Eliza expected him to go to her house, Petunia and Vernon exchanged frantic looks and after dessert, they were talking in harsh whispers in the kitchen. Harry still didn't know what that meant for him but at least they didn't forbid him from working on the project.

Harry went into the classroom and, keeping an eye on Dudley and his friends, looked around for Eliza. When he spotted her with a group of girls his dropped into his stomach. This particular group of girls were the reason Harry wasn't allowed to go to the restrooms unsupervised. In October, early in the school year, they had said that Harry went into the girls bathroom and peeked into the stalls. It had actually been Dudley but after he threatened to put bubblegum in their hair and had his gang chase them around they had accused Harry without remorse. Becky Thomas, the leader of this group of girls needed a bit more to buy her silence, so she, very stupidly, told Dudley to her homework for a week. Which meant Harry had an increased workload that week as two other girls had jumped on the bandwagon as well. Not to mention that Aunt Marge had been visiting during that week too.

Harry slumped into his seat, pulling out his homework so he could finish it. Luckily it was math, Harry's best subject, not that anyone knew it. Eliza skipped over to him after abruptly saying goodbye to the other girls. "Hey Harry," she said brightly. She leaned over his shoulder. "You got number three so wrong it looks like you're trying to be a dummy."

"I am." Harry said, looking at question three. "But that is a bit much." He erased his answer and when he couldn't think of a different answer he wrote something unintelligible that it looked like nothing but also three different numbers.

Eliza squinted at it for a minute then nodded her approval when she couldn't decipher it. "You gotta tell me how you do that. That could come in handy." She sat down in her seat and looked at his work curiously. "Y'know, Becky said that Dudley did her homework for a week and every answer was correct. She was surprised because Dudley is an idiot." Harry's lip twitched despite the fact he had stopped cold when Eliza mentioned Becky.

"But then," Eliza went on, "Imagine our surprise when Lucky said that she recognized the handwriting and it wasn't Dudley's. It was class 303's very own dummy Harry Potter. Of course BLT refused to believe it and went on to tell me that Harry Potter was not a dummy and also _not a pervert_."

"BLT?" Harry asked, not sure how to feel of Becky's 'defense'.

"Becky Linda Thomas." She said with an eye roll. "She introduced herself with her full name to make herself seem important."

"You introduced yourself with your full name," Harry pointed out.

"So did you!"

"Because you did!"

"I didn't want to _seem_ important. I already _know_ I'm important. Hey stop laughing!"

Harry calmed down enough so that Eliza could ask another question. "Is Lucky Lucky's actual name or is it just a nickname? 'Cause it would be pretty funny if she had the worst luck in the world."

"Her name is Lucy but everyone calls her Lucky because she won the raffle school wide raffle last year." The raffle was a result of some business man in the city donating money to the school. A bunch of new books were bought for the library as well as new desks and chairs for the rest of the school. Some money went to raffle, the prize four tickets to the local amusement park and five books. Lucy had won despite not caring about the amusement park or the books, only entering because Becky told her not to.

Eliza was doodling in her notebook giving Harry time to finish his homework. When Harry finished he halfheartedly wrote his name across because he hated it with passion turning in his work like he did. Eliza looked up at Harry glaring at the paper in front of him. She appeared to have an idea because she sat up excitedly, squealing. Before Harry could ask her if she had taken her medication that morning, Eliza snatched the paper from his grasp and erased quickly before writing something down.

"There," she said satisfied. "Write your name like that. It's so much cooler."

Harry looked at where she written and found himself nodding in agreement. The 'P' of Potter was shaped like lightning.

When it came time for recess, Harry led Eliza over to his tree. They sat comfortably in silence for few minutes before a certain blonde boy decided he needed some attention. In retrospect, Harry should have seen this coming.

"You shouldn't hang around the freak so much. It'll rub off on you," Dudley greeted them and, from the smirk on his face, he was quite proud of himself for saying a whole sentence that also involved an insult to Harry. "I can help you there."

"I think I'll be fine seeing as I'm a freak too," Eliza snarked glaring at Dudley. "But seeing as you're a git that will most certainly rub off on me. So excuse me if I don't accept your _help_."

Dudley blinked, clearly taken aback. No one has ever refused his 'help' before.

"But-but you can't be his friend!" Dudley exclaimed. "He's a freak! A freak!"

"I see you're stupid as well as a git." Eliza said, a frown on her face.

"You can't call me that!" Dudley shouted. Harry knew his cousin was near tears as he was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. The only reason the blonde pig wasn't a blubbering mess was because of his gang and the pretty girl in front of him.

"I just did," Eliza said now amused by the large boy. She gave Harry a smirk when he caught her eye.

"I'll pull your hair and make sure no one likes you!" Dudley said triumphantly.

"I'll kick you where it hurts if you don't leave right now." This was said with no anger but Harry had no doubt she would.

It appeared the other boys got the hint as they began backing up. Dudley himself paled a bit and gave Harry a spectacularly vicious glare before stalking off. Harry knew there would be hell to pay when he got home.

"Why does he call you a freak?" Eliza questioned not particularly interested. She figured they didn't get along. Most of her own cousins didn't like her. Granted she was the youngest by six years and they saw her as an annoying tag along. But it wasn't as though she could stay with the adults as they belittled her parents for their lifestyle choices.

Harry mumbled something incoherent and asked, "Why did you call yourself a freak?"

"Since he didn't seem to like freaks much I figured if I said I was one he would leave but that plan failed." Eliza shrugged unconcerned. "Threats seem to work so I guess I'll stick with that."

"Would you really have kicked him?" Harry said curiously.

"Not before socking him in the stomach and asking him to leave again."

Harry's respect for the girl grew.

During science when Mrs. Salter announced that they should continue working on their projects, the pair turned to each other with grins on their faces. "I have an idea for the project!" they exclaimed in unison.

"You first," Eliza said toning down her excitement after receiving a dirty look from the teacher.

"Well after you dropped me I was thinking about how you wanted to make music our project but I still liked the plant idea. So I thought, 'how does different music affect plants?' It's the perfect level of stupid!" Harry said this all excitedly, a bit eager for some music.

Eliza huffed. "My idea's too stupid compared to that!" She lamented loudly.

"What was it?"

"I was thinking more along the lines 'how does different music affect Harry?' It sounds horrible compared to yours." Eliza said huffing more.

"Well either way I still listen to music and we have decent project idea," Harry said gently, not mentioning that Eliza's idea was one of his first.

"I guess," Eliza muttered, cheering up a bit at being able to listen to music for the project.

Harry pushed her notebook towards her. "You have to write what type songs we- er... the plants are gonna listen to. I'll start reading about plants." Harry began flipping his textbook as Eliza began writing furiously occasionally humming a tune before whispering the title.

Harry had hopes for the end results.


	3. Interlude - The Dinner Party

Buck Up, Potter Interlude – The Dinner Party

Aunt Petunia was in a tizzy, Uncle Vernon was stuck behind the couch and Dudley was throwing a tantrum. Harry, oblivious to the disorder, was setting the table and peering out of the kitchen window. Many a dinner party had taken place in the Dursley household but never had Harry been swept up in the excitement. Of course this was the first time he had a friend who came to visit him so it was understandable.

Aunt Petunia was in a tizzy because she could not decide what to wear. She could still feel Mrs. Marsh's judgmental look and knew that a simple outfit wouldn't do. Uncle Vernon was stuck behind the couch because during Dudley's tantrum he had thrown Vernon's watch across the room and Vernon had seen it go in the direction of the couch (To Vernon's fury the watch would be discovered two days later in between the cushions). Dudley was throwing a tantrum because no one would pay him any attention. Simple, yes, but as are the troubles of a child who has yet to memorize his time tables.

All too soon, the doorbell rung and the Marshes were standing in their front hall. There were greetings and hugs and handshakes and "Thanks for having us" and "It's no problem" and tight smiles and flurries of coats and "Thank you young man" and a very sullen "You're welcome sir."

Eliza had greeted Harry with a hug and grin, saying "Alright, Potter?" Her use of his last name did not escape the adults notice, but she did not elaborate as Harry tugged her into the next room.

The adults followed momentarily taken aback by the feast on the table. Harry smiled nervously at the looks on their faces. That was the praise he got for Petunia would be taking credit for the dinner. Perhaps he'd be able to get credit for dessert...

Dinner wasn't a loud affair, no one seeing the need to make conversation if it was going to be awkward. Well, no one except for Eliza. She chattered on about anything and everything. Ranging from had Harry heard any new music to "the sky was really blue today" to "wow! These mashed potatoes are really good." The adults let her chatter on Harry or Sam (Mr. Marsh) cutting in occasionally.

When Eliza said offhandedly why did drills make that funny sound, Uncle Vernon's chest swelled up (pride or heart attack?) and Harry knew it was game over. Beth (Mrs. Marsh) looked at Harry with confusion when his eyes started to glaze over. She understood when Vernon started talking and felt herself doing the same five minutes later since he was still talking. Sam, to his credit, did his absolute best to pay attention and thus was the only one listening ten minutes later.

Eventually Vernon realized it was quite rude that he went on and on (not that anyway really cared) and asked the Marshes what they did for living.

Beth explained that they had both been the army, and their roles in the military played into their occupations. Beth was a doctor at Surrey General Hospital while Sam was a consultant for a security firm up in the city. The table then split into separate conversations, the women talking about the hospital and Petunia's brief stint in a secretarial position before settling as a housewife and the men discussing (what wasn't classified) the security firm. The three children stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments before Dudley got a Look™ from his mum and began talking of a football game that had been on the day before. Eliza, a huge fan and player on the local team, jumped right into the conversation, occasionally asking Harry his opinion on one thing or another, knowing he would not talking unless directly asked.

All in all, by the end of the night Harry did not consider it a complete failure.


	4. Changes

**AN: Please note that I haven't conducted the experiment they have nor have I looked at any research that could possibly have anything to do with Eliza and Harry's topic. I also have no idea what music was popular in the eighties or before that, much less in Europe, seeing as I was born in America in this century.**

CHAPTER THREE – CHANGES

February 2nd, 1988

For the past month Harry and Eliza worked hard on their project. Well, as hard as one can work when said work is playing ABBA for an hour, wondering if Queen has a different effect than the Beatles and strongly considering if Finnish metal bands were worth a mediocre grade. Nevertheless, they were both happy with their results and hoped that Eliza's parents (no matter how fine they were with project) would be happy with her grade.

Harry was happy, albeit a little confused, of the drastic changes that happened to the Dursleys. After his third visit to the Marsh household (and Mrs. Marsh looking at Petunia strangely from the school parking lot, though Harry didn't know that), Aunt Petunia brought Harry to secondhand store, where they practically bought him a new wardrobe. After his sixth visit, during which Harry stayed for dinner, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia argued for a while and the next morning Uncle Vernon announced he'd be moving into Dudley's second bedroom. A week later the Marsh family was invited to dinner. Uncle Vernon deemed them "the respectable sort of people" and told Harry to take a few notes. Aunt Petunia warned Harry to not scare off Eliza with his abnormality or he "might lose one of the few good influences in his sorry excuse of a life." The other good influences were supposedly Petunia and Vernon but Harry didn't dare confirm that out loud.

So basically, Harry was happy but confused.

And so, on this brisk, February morning, Harry stood in the school parking lot, waiting for Eliza to arrive with the rest of their project. Harry had kept the notes, procedure and all the writing while Eliza had the poster board and the plants.

After standing in the cold for ten minutes, a now very familiar dark blue car pulled into the drop off lane. Harry walked over as quickly as he could on the icy ground and as soon as he reached the automobile Eliza pushed open the back door nearly hitting Harry as she did so.

"Whoops! My bad. Potter, be a dear and hold this for me." And Harry found himself holding a large poster board and two potted plants.

"I'm excited for this! Aren't you?" Eliza chattered on excitedly as she jumped out of the car, two more potted plants in hand. "This is worth at least a seventy-five. I hope Mrs. Salter won't be too shocked that you got a high grade."

Mr. Marsh, who had climbed out after Eliza (bravely facing angry glares from other parents in the drop off lane as he did so), raised an eyebrow at the statement but said nothing. He had once overheard the two planning how to make it so they would get a slightly below grade on the project. He was curious of their train of thought but knew that the time effort put into the project would have them at least place third. So he let them plot, figuring the looks on their faces would be worth it.

"Good luck presenting," Mr. Marsh said, "I'm sure you will do great." As the two nodded their thanks, he went on. "Where is your cousin, Harry, I thought you came to school together?"

The boy look away, the white highlights catching the sun. "Dudley's coming later on. He overslept and Aunt Petunia didn't want me to be late, so I walked." Which sounded believable enough, if Sam and his wife hadn't been so wary of the Dursleys. It was clear that the difference in the way Harry and his cousin were treated were not good. But what were the Marshes to do but force a second helping of everything onto Harry when he stayed for dinner and treat him right.

Mr. Marsh was pulled out of his thoughts when his tornado of a daughter began pulling Harry toward the school. "You had better go Mr. Marsh," Harry called out over his shoulder. "Mrs. Thomas looks ready to run you over."

Sam glanced at the women and let out what he told himself was a manly yelp, and quickly got into his car.

Harry and Eliza sat in the classroom side by side, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Eliza was prepping the plants as Harry read over the notes. Well Harry was trying to read the notes but Eliza's constant whispering to the plants was a tad distracting. She had named the four plants after each member of the Beatles and was telling them encouraging things to prepare to present.

"I've full faith in the four of you," Eliza was saying, "But don't look so droopy Ringo. It doesn't suit you."

Harry glanced over at the band mem- sorry _plant_ , in question. Ringo did look a bit droopy. "You watered them right?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Eliza said feigning pompousness. "Of course I did!"

Harry studied the plant before looking at the photographs they had taken. His eyes widened. "Were you playing 'Dancing Queen' again?!" Harry accused. It was the strangest phenomenon but all the plants drooped significantly whenever "Dancing Queen" was played.

Eliza looked guilty for a moment before straightening up. "I regret nothing. It's still the second best song ever written."

Harry frowned. They had arguing whether the top spot belonged to 'Bohemian Rhapsody' or 'We Are the Champions' for over two weeks now. Mr. Marsh, ever the patriot, nominated 'The Star Spangled Banner' while Mrs. Marsh tossed in a jazz record from the '30s. Harry knew better than to ask the Durselys what they thought. **(AN: At this point I've exhausted every possible old song I know before I cross into [most likely '90s] American music).**

But all this was beside the point. "You've contaminated the results of the experiment! Now we have to rely on blurry, black and white photos to present." Not to offend the Marshes' Polaroid camera, but Mrs. Marsh admitted it was from her college days.

The blonde looked guiltier than before. "Sorry. But at most Mrs. Salter will knock off a few points. It won't matter."

"Your parents won't like it," Harry reminded her.

"Oh." Eliza responded eloquently. "But there's nothing we can do about it now." She muttered, gesturing to the teacher who just entered the room.

"We won!" Eliza was shrieking. "WE WON!"

"No we didn't," Harry muttered still shocked. "Calm down E."

"We still won!" The girl whispered loudly. She tried to compose herself. It didn't work."It may not be first, second or third but it's a ribbon!" Eliza squealed once more before hugging Harry tightly for moment.

Harry tugged at the white streak in his hair before looking at the green ribbon anxiously. "MOST IMAGINATIVE" it said. It was a ribbon and they won it. He should be happy. But…

"The freak cheated!" Dudley was saying loudly. "There's no way he could come up with anything worth... anything! Much less a puke colored ribbon."

Eliza heard what Dudley was saying and frowned. "The ribbon's not puke colored!" She tightened her ponytail before standing up. "I'll show him puke colored, that pig."

"Don't, E," Harry said absentmindedly, "He's not worth it."

"He insulted our beautiful ribbon!"

"They'll take it away if we get into trouble." Harry said, finally looking up. Dudley was going to give him a hell of a beating once the final bell rang. The boy accepted that. His cousin would also complain to uncle Vernon, who would smack him around a bit before locking him in the cupboard and 'forget' to feed him. Harry just needed to mentally prepare and save something from lunch. Depending on Aunt Petunia's mood they might forget to let him out in the morning causing him to miss school…

Screw it.

"Eliza," Harry said turning to his friend, who was glaring fiercely at Dudley. "You know how you've been begging for a sleepover?"

The smile on her face would be enough to light up the coming weeks of torture.

 **AN Hello readers! Thanks for favoriting, following and/or reviewing this story! In a chapter or two Harry receives his Hogwarts letter. And for those wondering Eliza and her parents do not have magic. They're just muggles so I'm sorry to disappoint any of you.**

 **If you happen to like any part of what you've read so far please check out my other stories on wattpad. My username is nobody0405. I'd really appreciate it!**


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